There's No Time Like Summertime
by Wonderstruck
Summary: it's the scorching sun and the bright nail polish and the intoxicating aroma of something he just barely can't identify / / or, pointless Sam&Freddie, with a side of Carly


**A/N: Okay, so this is kind of random and fluffy, but I had some weird need to write it. I guess you could say it's a kind of post-iOMG oneshot, though iOMG is only mentioned once. I'm aware of _some_ grammatical incorrectness—it was done purposefully as a stylistic sort of thing. Constructive criticism is always welcome.**

**So, my OCD self saw several things it was unhappy with. I had to tweak some things, and fix some mistakes. I always hate editing my stuff because I end up scrutinizing it to death, but that results in little errors. I previously posted this under a different title, and its mostly the same content. I just felt that instead of leaving the old one, I'd just repost it under its new-and-improved name. I'm rambling now, sorry. Haha, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly. I NEED iLOSTMYMIND. That is all.**

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><p><strong>there's no time like summertime<strong>

There has never been a summer in Seattle as sunny as this one. Instead of the nearly-constant drizzle that customarily dominates, well, _every_ season, there is real honest-to-goodness sun. It's scorching hot and bright and dazzling and she can't get enough of it. He's just along for the ride.

Her hair has lightened noticeably and it shines like pure gold in the sunlight. Her skin has darkened considerably and the bronze glows against all the bright summer colors. Her clothing has, um, lessened—not that he's looked or anything. She smells like coconuts and key lime pie and cupcakes and ham and something that he can't put his finger on. He gets drunk off the scent like she gets drunk off the sun. When she's next to Carly, the contrast is obvious. Carly is still pale white and raven-haired, the antithesis of Sam. She's still pretty, of course—in her classic brunette, doe-eyed, light-skinned, skinny Carly way. But Sam? Sam's radiant, and he just can't keep his eyes off of her. (Funny how things change, huh?)

Her long blonde curls spill over her shoulder, the sunlight refracting off of each strand in a flash of golden hues as she lies down in the lush green grass. Freddie lies on one side of her and Carly takes the other. They all gaze up at the puffy white clouds, trying to find some semblance of concreteness in them.

Sam's the first one to find an object in the pretty blue sky. "That one looks like a pig," she proclaims happily, pointing one of her coral-painted fingernails toward a particularly porky cloud.

"Of course you'd say that," Freddie comments dryly and Sam turns her head so she can glare at him for the offending comment. "Actually, I can kind of see it," he amends after studying the pig-cloud.

"_Kind of?_" Sam is incredulous. "It's uncanny!" she exclaims. She turns her head to face Carly and ask, "C'mon, Carls, don't you think it looks like a pig?"

"It really does," Carly chuckles in response. Sam beams at her and playfully shoves Freddie.

"You see, Freddumb? Carly agrees with me," she says.

"I did, too!" he shoots back. He tries to pretend that he's aggravated, but he can't stop the grin from spreading across his face. Bickering is still one of their favorite pastimes—although it grates on Carly's nerves from time to time.

"Not until _after_ you scoffed at my monumental discovery," Sam replies, narrowing her eyes at him. She, too, can't keep a smirk off of her face. Carly rolls her eyes at their banter and wears an amused smile on her face.

"I was just saying," he states. There's a blue fire in Sam's eyes when she gets passionate about something and he absolutely loves it. That's his rationalization for constantly trying to provoke her. When he thinks about it, he realizes that his rationalization isn't very rational. So, maybe he's insane. He's okay with that.

"I don't think I'm ever going to understand you two," Carly quips, interrupting the duo.

Sam winks at her and says, "We like to keep things exciting."

They all laugh at her statement and Sam lies her head back in the grass and closes her eyes. Freddie catches a whiff of her infuriatingly intoxicating aroma and it beckons him to look at her. He sees a faint smile on her face and then he's hooked. Sometimes he just can't help but look at her. The small silver fried chicken pendant that he gave her glints in the sun as it moves across her delicate collarbone. She's nothing short of beautiful.

Sam can feel his gaze on her, but she decides not to say anything. When he laces his large fingers with her petite fingers, she lets her faint smile become a little more prominent. She feels a familiar warmth bubble in her chest at his touch. She thinks that kissing him that night was the best decision she ever made.

Freddie's full-out smiling now. Her eyes are still closed and he's still staring at her. He moves his gaze to their hands. He doesn't think he'll ever get over how different they are. His hands engulf hers, and her bronze skin complements his slight tan. Her nails are covered in bright nail polish—she'd started to wear it constantly—that pops against their skin. She's always so warm. He thinks she gets it from all the sun.

Carly gets suspicious in the rare moment of silence and she glances over at her best friends. She sees their intertwined fingers and the smiles on their faces and she beams at the sky. The happiness that her friends give each other brings her insurmountable joy. They complement each other perfectly and she's glad that they'd finally realized how well they can work together. It warms her insides like the sun warms her skin.

All three friends sigh in contentment. They're a sun-baked s'more of two chocolate brunettes and a feisty graham-cracker blonde.

Speaking of s'mores—, "I'm starving. Where are the Fatcakes?" Sam calls out in harmony with her grumbling stomach.

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><p><strong>AN: So, I hope you didn't hate it. Please review and lemme know what you think!**


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